Matters of the Heart
by The Labyrinths Scribe
Summary: In pursuit of her own happy ending, Emma all but declares war on Regina and, as a result, begins to unknowingly right the wrongs done to the citizens of Storybrooke and break the curse - but Regina is not going down without a fight.
1. Chapter, the First

**A/n: Well….umm…okay, to old readers: Please don't kill me. I'm having a little trouble at the moment and, well, the "death" scene of Graham in Once Upon a Time has inspired me. **

**To new readers: Hi. So, I have this **_**really**_** bad habit of starting a story and then not finishing it – either for lack of inspiration, or just plain boredom (since I already know what's going to happen). However, as is my usual plan, should I decide to abandon this story, the last thing I post will be my outline for the story – detailing how everything was supposed to go and end. Obviously, it won't be quite the same thing as **_**reading**_** it, but at least you'll have some closure, right? Hypothetically, of course, because I just **_**might**_** finish this one. We'll see.**

**The summary of this story is a little...odd, to be honest - by odd, I mean I haven't quite figured out how to describe it yet. Regardless, the story _will_ encompass fairytale aspects as well as real-world aspects, though perhaps less so on the fairytale end (at least for now). The fairytale battle will come later, but for now... first comes the matters of the heart.**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.<strong>

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><p>Chapter, the First: Kiss Me Now, or Catch Your Death<p>

Emma knew that this was wrong. Well, that's not quite right – she knew it _should_ be wrong. She shouldn't be sitting in the waiting room of the Storybrooke town hospital, waiting to catch half of a word from a Doctor who was refusing to tell her anything. She shouldn't be sitting in this waiting room, praying to hear some good news about a man who shouldn't mean anything to her. _For God's sake, she had only known the man two and a half months. _But despite this fact, which should have much more weight than it really does, Emma continues to sit in the hospital waiting room. She sits, and sits, and sits. At some point, the receptionist – who had been here during every argument Emma had with Dr. Whale, who refused to tell her anything – shows an unexpected gesture of kindness, and brings Emma a cup of coffee from the staff break room. Emma accepts gratefully, and continues to wait – stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the few truths that were staring her in the face.

She cared about this man who was lying in a hospital bed being kept alive by machines and nothing else. She cared about him in a way she knew she shouldn't; he was her boss, Regina's lover, and above all else – he was a danger to her. The last time she had let herself get emotionally involved with someone, she wound up pregnant and left to fend for herself. She wouldn't be making that mistake again. As Sheriff Graham's _only_ deputy and current successor, she had a right to be concerned. She had a _right_ to be here. Nothing else. Kissing Graham, letting him kiss her, had been a mistake – pleasant, lovely mistake that could not be repeated.

Emma had more to think about now that she had come to a very important decision: She wanted Henry back. In the two and a half months since he had blown into her life with a breath used to extinguish a candle, she had come to realize many things. One, Regina was _not_ Henry's mother – certainly not the mother that Emma had envisioned for her son when she gave him up. Two, Emma was now emotionally invested in this child, her son, and couldn't just let him go. Three, for all that she may not own a home, have a career, have a stable relationship, Emma knew that her son would be better off with _her_ than with the woman who pretended to know what the word 'love' actually meant. Four, she had closed herself off from humanity for too long, and the wall had been ready to crumble – _begging_ to crumble. Five, Graham went after that wall with a sledgehammer – and she let him. Six, even if, when, Graham woke up, there would be no relationship or rendezvous.

For the first time in her entire life, Emma knew what she wanted and how she was going to get it. Perhaps more importantly, she wasn't going to let anything, or anyone, jeopardize her chances of getting Henry back – including the handsome Sheriff. Regina had taken things too far this time, had proven to Emma that she was incapable of providing Henry with what he needed. Thus, a fire had been lit in Emma, one that Regina was going to regret starting. After two hours, what seemed like days to Emma, Dr. Whale finally approached her.

"Ms. Swan,"

"Dr. Whale," She replied, giving him a hard look that said _'Don't you dare tell me I'm not allowed to know what's going on,'_

"Sheriff Graham appears to have suffered a massive heart attack, which we can't comprehend at all given his age and lack of family history. The monitor's…well, there's no scientific explanation except perhaps a glitch in the system, but the monitor's showed that, for a few moments, it was as if he didn't _have_ a heart. Despite the malfunction, everything appears to be normal now – well, as normal as it should be. His heart his weak, to put it delicately, and won't be able to handle _any_ stress or excitement for the next few weeks. I'm sorry to inform you of your promotion, Ms. Swan," Dr. Whale finished with a small smile before walking away, leaving Emma standing in the middle of the hallway.

Emma didn't trust Dr. Whale or, to be frank, like him very much – there was something very off about him, something that didn't sit right with her. And there was the fact that Emma had the sneaking suspicion he was in the Mayor's pocket, like everybody else. His interest and meddling in Mary Margaret's affairs only succeeded to push her suspicion further. Whatever his motivation may have been, at least he told her what was going on. What he didn't tell her, was whether or not she was allowed to see Graham. By the time she turned to ask him, he had disappeared. Salvation came in the form of the receptionist who, as always, had been watching from behind the desk.

"Visiting hours are over but I think the Doctor would understand if you wanted a few minutes with him,"

"_Thank you,"_ Emma said emphatically, giving the woman a genuine smile. The receptionist pointed to a room down the hall and gave her a wink, which Emma chose to ignore; people already thought there was something between her and Graham, and furthering that belief would hardly serve her purposes.

She didn't bother knocking, but opened the door gently and ducked her head inside, checking to see if he was asleep. When she was sure he _was_ asleep, she entered the room before letting the door shut gently behind her. He hardly looked as though he had suffered a massive heart attack; his hair was still curly and slightly unruly, his face tan if a little flushed. His lips parted to let out a silent exhale, and remained so to withdraw an equally silent inhale. He was no less handsome in her eyes than he had ever been, perhaps even more so given the current circumstances. It was at this moment that Emma wished having a relationship with him was in the stars, was a part of her destined path, but knew it could not be.

She pulled a chair over next to his bedside and sat down, feeling a little awkward. "Hey, Graham," What exactly does one say to an unconscious man? Probably something different than what you would say to a dead man.

**-Onceuponatime-**

"_No! Graham?" Emma shouted as Graham fell to the floor. She pulled him into her lap and shook him trying to wake him. When Emma finally came to grips with the fact that he wasn't waking, or breathing, her hands slipped into her pocket to pull out her cellphone. She dialed 911, heard it connect to the local town hospital. "Hello? It's Deputy Swan," Emma began without waiting for a response on the other line. "Sheriff Graham…Something's wrong with him! We were talking and then his eyes rolled back into his head. I don't think he's breathing! We're at the police station,"_

"_Ma'am, help is on the way. The important thing is to remain–" Emma hung up on the woman, choosing instead to smooth back Graham's brow. All of this was, in a word, insane. How could so much happen in one day? She struggled to hold back her tears, desperately searching for some sign of life left in the man._

"_Hey, Graham," She choked the words out, hoping for some kind of response. When there was none, she felt her shoulders begin to shake violently at the held back emotion. After a few seconds, she pressed on, having found her voice again. "Hey, __**huntsman**__," She addressed him again, this time as his fairytale persona – the one he had believed in, in his last twenty four hours of life. "You're not allowed to die, alright? That's – that's not how the story ends."_

_The paramedics burst through the door, lifting him off of her and onto a stretcher that seemed to have been conjured from thin air. They made their way to the ambulance, an EMT inside waiting with the defibrillator already charged. One of the paramedics gestured for her to get in the back, and she obeyed, making herself as small as possible so they would have room to work. She could hear the paramedics speaking to each other, medical mumbo-jumbo she didn't understand, but didn't look up, didn't try to listen to what they were saying. Instead, she began speaking softly, her commentary directed at Graham though he was likely dead._

_"Graham, I need you to hear me now, okay? I need you to listen to me. The Evil Queen…" She paused for a moment, debating on whether or not to continue. "You told me you didn't feel anything because the Evil Queen took your heart, but she couldn't have taken all of it because you felt something for me. So, don't let her win, okay? Don't let what's left of your heart give up on you now that you're feeling something again – you're strong enough. You can take it," The words, though spoken in a hushed whisper too soft for the paramedics to hear, seemed to work their magic (or perhaps the defibrillator did its job) because his heart began to beat once again._

**-Onceuponatime-**

"It's Emma. I'm…I'm here to check up on you after the scare you gave me, you jerk, but I suppose you can't hear me – the Doc has you pretty heavily medicated, if I understood any of this medical mumbo jumbo on the chart on your door. Anyway, visiting hours are over, and I'm probably going to get kicked out of here pretty soon so… Get well soon, because the last thing this town needs is me for its sheriff." Emma said, chuckling slightly. She stood and put the chair back in its original spot and was half way to the door, ready to escape the situation which was quickly turning awkward (even though there was no reasonable explanation for it).

"And just between you and me, if you needed a heart, all you had to do was ask – you can share mine." She turned back and walked to his bedside, making a split second decision. _For the last time, just once more would be okay_. She kissed him sweetly, briefly, on the lips before quickly exiting first his room, and then the hospital itself. She had some explaining to do to Mary Margaret.

Perhaps, if Emma had not been in such a rush to flee the room, she would have noticed the corners of his mouth twitch upward into a smile. But as it happens, she did not.

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><p><strong>An: So, that was just the first chapter - more of a prologue, really, to tease your brains. Did it work? Things to come: Emma asks Archie for advice, Henry has a chat with Graham, Mary Margaret has a slightly uncomfortable meeting with David Nolan, Regina and Mr. Gold find themselves at odds. There may or may not be a marriage proposal thrown in there somewhere (and by 'may or may not', I mean will). Please review and tell me what you think so far - even though there's not much to go off of, maybe something about Emma's voice? Thanks!**

**P.s. - the chapter title is song lyrics taken from Natalie Merchant's 'My Skin', which helped me set the tone for the chapter.**


	2. Chapter, the Second

**A/n: Thanks so much to all of my wonderful reviewers: AlexaAres, Mary, KaiaRay, tangled6, Crystalkyubbi-chan, Fallen Outcast, moviegeek03, jaceyb1, Booth Seeley Booth, katididnot, Arocksprpl2, vapor2008, Lia MarieDaughter of Hecate, Lady Elena Bella Petrova, red lightning, ladyoftimeandangels.**

**A huge thank you to all 38 people who added this to their alerts, and the 9 people who added it to their favorites! The numbers alone make me smile! **

**Enjoy the next chapter!**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.<strong>

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><p>Chapter, the Second: For a Reason<p>

Emma trudged her way to the apartment door of Mary Margaret Blanchard, and had no sooner put the key in the knob when the door opened. Mary Margaret swept Emma into her arms in a big hug, a relieved sigh escaping her.

"Thank goodness!" She exclaimed, squeezing Emma one more time before releasing her. "It's almost three in the morning; I was worried!"

Emma chuckled and hugged her back, having gotten used to Mary's affectionate nature. "Well, _I_ am fine. Sheriff Graham…well that's a different story."

"Sheriff Graham? You don't look alright – you've got a bruise on your left temple. Oh, let me get some ice, please? It will make me feel better. Should I make some cocoa too?"

Mary's nervous, motherly pacing and babbling had a calming effect on Emma, who began to feel all the tension drain from her body. "Sure, to both the ice and the cocoa."

Once the ice pack and cocoa had been handed out, the two women settled into the couch in preparation for the long talk ahead of them.

"So, what happened tonight?" Mary Margaret asked, gentle curiosity in her tone.

"A lot," Emma replied half joking, half serious. "Um, _God_, the beginning would probably be a good place to start, huh?" She sniffled and sipped her cocoa. "Graham had been acting strangely since I ran into him this morning. He was talking about – about a wolf, and not having a heart. You remember _that_, I'm sure. He visited Henry and, between the two of them, they came to the conclusion that he is the Huntsman."

"_They_ came to the conclusion?" Mary Margaret asked, one eyebrow raised. "I mean, I suppose that would explain why he thought he'd hurt me – the huntsman was supposed to kill Snow White, right? But he believed Henry, like _actually_ believed him?"

Emma nodded wearily, taking comfort in the smell of the cinnamon. "Yeah. And, it was the strangest thing, but…I think I'd finally got him calmed down, got him back inside the realm of sanity when I look over his shoulder and sure enough, there's a wolf staring right back at me."

"_No way!" _Mary Margaret exclaimed, her mouth popping open in surprise.

"Yeah, and suddenly I can't help but wonder, just for a second, if there wasn't something to all the fairytale stuff Henry's been spouting. The next thing I know, Graham is tearing off after the thing, and then _I'm_ tearing after him!"

"Where did it take you?"

Emma scoffed slightly, shaking her head in disbelief. "To the mausoleum of Regina's father. We're standing there, in front of the damn thing, and Graham says that his heart is in there, that that's where she stashed it."

"She as in Regina, the woman he's been sleeping with?"

Emma nodded. "She as in _the Evil Queen_, who punished the Huntsman for his betrayal and failure."

"Oh, now you've got to be kidding me."

She shook her head. "Nope, I'm really not. And then, just our luck, guess who shows up to bring flowers to her father's grave?" The look on Mary Margaret's face displayed both disbelief and sympathy. "Yeah, it's just one more thing to add to the list of really weird crap that happened today. So, she and Graham get into it and Graham dumps her, just like that. Told her to her face that he didn't feel anything with her, and never had,"

Mary Margaret's eyes shot to her forehead. "I'm going to make an educated guess and say that Regina somehow attributed this to you,"

"She did, even as Graham repeats himself over and over that it's not about me. Eventually she actually asks me what she ever did to me, to make me take everything she holds dear."

"She _actually_ blamed it all on you?" Emma found Mary Margaret's innocence incredibly sweet.

"Oh yeah. I…well, I might have lost my temper a bit and pointed out the fact that Henry came after _me_, and that Graham kissed _me_. I told her to take a good look in the mirror, because I was just the person they were running to, and _she_ was the one they were running _from_."

"What did she say?"

"She didn't _say_ anything. She just punched me – threw me right into Graham."

Mary Margaret gasped. "_What? _Has she lost her mind?"

"No more than me; I hit her back. I would have done more, had Graham not pulled me off of her."

Mary Margaret made a noise between a snicker and snort, which she tried to cover up by taking a sip of her cocoa; she was blushing.

"You know," Emma began, observing Mary Margaret's cheeks inflame. "It's perfectly natural to laugh when someone you don't like gets a little Karma back. You _don't_ have to be little Miss Mary Sunshine all the time – people aren't going to think less of you for it."

She looked, for a moment, rather sad, but pressed on. "Thank you. Sometimes, it just doesn't quite feel that way."

"I'd imagine not," Emma muttered under her breath. "Especially not with Regina lurking around every corner threatening to get people fired if they don't obey her."

"So," Mary Margaret said abruptly, changing the subject. "What happened after you punched her?"

"We left her at the mausoleum. I went first and then Graham…followed. We went back to the station so I could get my things, and clean me up. He – he was tending my battle wound," Emma said jokingly, gesturing to the bump on her brow.

"And?" Mary Margaret inquired, seeing the look on Emma's face.

"I might possibly have kissed him," Emma admitted reluctantly, feeling a little sheepish.

In the two and a half months that Emma lived in Storybrooke, she thought had come to know Mary Margaret Blanchard, in her opinion, fairly well. Yet, despite this, the thought that Mary Margaret could be capable of smirking had never occurred to her – until now, when Mary Margaret very clearly _was_ smirking. "Really?" She asked, trying to feign surprise; the smugness could still be heard. Emma smiled, finding brief reprieve in the amusement Mary Margaret was supplying simply by being Mary Margaret.

"Yeah," Emma replied, sighing wearily. She would have continued and explained immediately, were it not for the fact that her eyes had begun to well with tears again. She shuddered and tried to stop; she was supposed to be _done_ with crying for the night.

"Oh, honey, what's wrong?" Mary Margaret asked, her teasing tone having been replaced by true concern and alarm.

"He – he went to kiss me and…" Emma choked a little, feeling her throat close up as it sometimes did when she was upset. When she was finally able to speak, to breathe, again she simply let the words tumble out of her mouth. "His eyes rolled back into his head and he – he fell, and then he wasn't breathing and…" She had to stop again, had to take a minute to calm herself down. "Dr. Whale said he suffered a massive heart attack. The paramedics arrived in the nick of time and were able to resuscitate him, but he's…he's very weak."

"Oh my gosh!" Mary Margaret exclaimed, setting her cocoa aside and moving to sit next to Emma to embrace her. "That must have been…awful. But, Emma," Mary Margaret released her and looked her in the eye. "Don't you go blaming yourself for this, alright?"

"Blame myself? Why would I–" Emma began to say, began to deny, but stopped when Mary Margaret looked at her in that way – that maternal _'Don't you lie to me'_ way. Emma rephrased what she was going to stay, and continued. "Don't heart attacks happen because of excess stress? How do we know that my overreaction about him and Regina, or my and Regina's fight didn't cause this? _Did_ I cause this?"

Though Mary Margaret knew the last question was not directed at her, she felt she should answer it anyway. "Listen to me, Emma. You did not cause this. Excess stress _can_ cause heart attacks, but not someone of Graham's age. There _had_ to be something else that caused it. And now, don't you go thinking that you don't belong here either, or keep pointing the finger at yourself for Grahams trip to the E.R. That man is a _good man_, Emma, one Regina doesn't deserve. He has always been pleasant, eager to lend a helping hand, and an excellent influence on Henry – but Emma something was _missing_. For as long as I have known him, he's carried this emptiness around inside him that no one else seems to see – he wears his badge and his grin like it's armor, and no one notices. That changed when you came, Emma. _He_ changed. Well, we all have, really, but him the most. He started _living_ again, and not just existing. When you blew into this little town, it was like seeing the sun rise for the first time – in human form, no less."

Emma felt incredibly uncomfortable, but took Mary Margaret's words into consideration – even though, in her opinion, Mary Margaret had romanticized the situation more than reality.

"I'm going to head to bed, if you don't mind," Emma said apologetically, getting up and walking to the kitchen to rinse out her cocoa cup. "It's kind of been a long night and I need to be up in…five hours to walk Henry to the bus stop."

She paused outside her bedroom door before turning to look back at Mary Margaret, who was still sitting on the couch with her cocoa in her hands. "I feel better, after talking to you," Emma clarified, before clearing her throat a little. "But you'll have to forgive me for not believing you about filling the void Sheriff Graham seemed to have. His sun rising or setting isn't dependent on me – it's dependent on him." She finished with a teasing smile,

Mary Margaret smiled and chuckled, bidding Emma goodnight. It wasn't until Emma's bedroom door clicked shut that Mary Margaret made any sort of movement, which was to rinse out her own cocoa cup. Before she herself went to bed, Mary Margaret found herself responding to Emma's final words with a glimmer of hope, though Emma would never hear them.

"Maybe so, but I'd be willing to bet that he would be more than happy to _let_ it depend on _you_."

**-onceuponatime—**

Regina let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, felt all of the anger she had been feeling fade away as the Huntsman's heart turned to ash and dust in her hand. She felt only a glimmer of remorse at destroying such a fine specimen, but sighed in content when the feeling dissipated. Destroying Graham had, truly, been a waste, but he had outlived his usefulness. Though she was loathe to admit it to herself, she knew that she had forgotten – well and truly _forgotten _– that Graham wasn't hers by choice. They had been together for almost thirty years, when all was said and done.

Thirty years of companionship thrown away because little Miss _Emma Swan_ couldn't leave well enough alone. Telling her that he had felt _nothing_ when he was with her had hurt, she could admit that much, but the depth of that hurt would go unacknowledged. Killing him had not been about hurting_ him_, exactly, because all men were prone to be liars and cheats – her sixty years of life had taught her that. No, killing him had been about hurting _Emma_. That girl had _no_ idea who she was dealing with, had no idea what was in store for her. The day Henry had come home with that _wretched_ book had been the day Regina knew that the winds of change were blowing.

Given her wisdom, her experience, she should have known better than to ask _him_ for a favor, for a deal, but she had grown so lonely… Graham could only satisfy one part of her lonely life, but it wasn't enough to fill the rest. When she asked Gold to procure a child for her, a boy, she should have known that there would be strings attached; every magic has a price. She just hadn't imagined that the price would be so high – how foolish of her. So, Emma – the savior of the _good_ and _just_ – had come at last to free the miserable wretches from the confines of the curse. Well, she'd freed Graham alright; Regina couldn't help but smirk. Should the time ever come when she and Emma would do battle in their true forms, and should Emma _win_, Regina would make sure that Emma knew the truth of Graham's demise with her dying breath.

"Quite a collection,"

Regina whirled around, her head snapping to the voice she knew all too well. "What are you doing down here? _This is my sanctuary!_"

"So sorry, Madame Mayor," Mr. Gold replied, sounding not particularly sorry at all. "I thought you summoned me; you were thinking about me."

"That damned power of yours is quite a nuisance. I was thinking about Henry, if you must know," Regina replied, unsettled by the fact that he had passed her wards without her noticing.

"Ah, I see. Where you got him, then? Of course, with Ms. Swan in town I would say that that would definitely warrant a thought or two."

"Cut the bullshit, Gold. I want to know, and I want to know _now_, _why_ did you bring me Henry out of all the children in this world? Do you _want_ the curse to be broken? Do you _want_ to go back stealing and sneaking to get by in a world that _hates_ you and denies you _power_?"

Abruptly, there was a change in the air. A cold wind blew and all too quickly, Regina's sanctuary became still and silent, as though all the air had been sucked from the room. The candlelight was gone, the room gone dark.

"Do _not_ pretend to know me, Regina, for you _do not_. The magic I used to bring you your son did not let me _pick_ a child for you – all it did was bring the one _who was meant to be here_. Now, I know that your _narcissism_ has probably not allowed you _think_ in this matter, so let me enlighten you. Your _triumph_ over Snow White, this curse, was just the _battle_ Regina, one that you were _destined_ to win, but the _war_ is far from over. Your winning of the battle is not _any_ indication that you will win the war – destiny will not be stopped, and if it is your _destiny_ to lose, than _lose_ you shall. Henry being the grandson of Snow White, and thus bringing his mother, the savior, to Storybrooke is no accident – but neither is it something I have orchestrated. Do not lay such accusations against me again," He said, coldly.

"Regardless of your motivations, Rumpelstiltskin, _help me_ send Emma away – you will not go unrewarded."

"You'll have to forgive me, Madame Mayor, if I do not."

"_Excuse me?"_ Regina asked through clenched teeth, snapping her fingers to once again light the candles so she might read his expression. It was inscrutable.

"I have helped you enough, I think. I am not so keen to offer Ms. Swan my support, but neither shall you have aid from me in this matter."

"This curse is the _only_ reason you have _anything_!"

"Oh yes, Your Majesty, everything I have I owe to your curse. But, you see, _I'm bored._"

"Surely you would not give up everything I have given you, everything we have worked for in placing this curse, simply because you are _bored_?" Regina asked, outraged and alarmed.

He did not reply but smiled at her cheerily before turning his back to her and taking the stairs two at a time.

Regina shouted after him "Don't you turn your back on me, Rumpelstiltskin! I _own_ you, and _everyone else_ in this town!" The door slammed shut behind him.

Mr. Gold continued to make his way home, whistling a merry tune and ignoring her outraged shouts. "Oh _no_, Madame Mayor, don't _you_ turn _your back_ on _me_."

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><p><strong>An: So that's it for now. Updates might be few and far between, or they might be very, very close together. It all kind of depends on how busy I am and how inspired I'm feeling.**

**The chapter title comes from the song "For Good" From Wicked, though the version I like best is the Glee version. The title comes from the line "…People come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn…" Chew on that! **

**I would like to say thank you again – the response I received from chapter one was simply overwhelming and it made me feel incredibly happy all day. Also, about the teaser last chapter, I hope you all didn't think I'd shove it all in one chapter – spread the love, and the scenes. I am currently not taking the Episode 8 promo into account for this story, only the first seven episodes. That being said, you may notice some astonishing similarities in future chapters as things get more intense.**

**Thanks again! Please review and let me know what you think; theories, thoughts, things you want to see in this story, etc,. Let me have it!**

**P.s. - These chapters always look so much _longer_ on a word document. Hmm...**


	3. Chapter, the Third

**A/n: WOW! I cannot thank you all enough for the immense show of appreciation and support I received! A HUGE thank you to all of my reviewers: potter's anatomy, Alexa Ares, AlmontRaidersForever, Arocksprpl2, vapor2008, JoHaisch, katdidnot, jaceyb1, KayleethePete, Pin11, poetintraining576, red lightning, Booth Seeley Booth, anitarose, and TheSongMaker.**

**A tremendous, huge, giant mickey-mouse-chocolate-chip-pancake to every single wonderful person who added this to their alert list, favorite list, and/or community! I can't thank you enough! **

**In other news, I started an official twitter page! I would love it you guys followed me – I post regular updates, quotes, and spoilers from upcoming chapters. Twitter will probably be the best way to get ahold of me in the event you have a question or a request. Search & Add me: to_be_worthy**

**I apologize for not replying to every review individually – sadly, my schedule has gotten so hectic lately that I simply don't have the time – but please know that I do appreciate the time you take to write them, so thanks again! Add me! :D**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, se<strong>**ttings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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><p>Chapter, the Third: Give Me One Good Reason<p>

Mary Margaret awoke only three hours after she went to bed and felt every second of that much-needed lost sleep. Still, she couldn't help waiting for Emma to get home – she had known that something was wrong – and was glad she had. Emma had very quickly become a good friend, her best friend really, and Mary Margaret was rather certain that the feeling was mutual. Emma was a complicated woman who had been through hell in her twenty-seven years on this planet, and that kind of life leaves an indelible mark. Oh yes, Emma had certainly had her fair share of heartbreak – perhaps even _more_ than her fair share – but Mary Margaret had faith that everything would be alright. Emma was strong, stubborn; she would pull through.

She prepared her coffee in her travel mug, walking back to her room to change into her clothes and get ready for school. Perhaps one of the biggest reasons Mary Margaret liked Emma so much, was that she had that…_je ne se quois_, that certain something – a strength Mary Margaret didn't think she herself had, but wished to acquire. All her life, she had been under the thumb of someone else, had let other people tell her what to be and how to act, and she was _sick_ of it. She had let other people's perceptions of how she _should_ be dictate how she actually was – No more. Today was a new day, one she was starting with a new goal in mind: to be herself, and no one else.

She was, miraculously, out the door by 6:30 and had arrived at Granny's in fifteen minutes – just enough time to grab an extra cup of coffee to go. She greeted Ruby at the door with a cheerful smile before making her way to the counter, where two or three of the local gentlemen were already discussing Sheriff Graham's hospitalization. When she heard Emma's name mentioned, caught part of a sentence blaming Emma for all the 'trouble' that had taken place since she arrived, she couldn't sit idly by.

She cleared her throat. "Gentleman," She addressed them sweetly, seeing no reason for this to be unpleasant. "That's a little unfair, don't you think? I agree that things have definitely been shaken up by Ms. Swan's arrival, but to blame her for a thirty year old man having a heart attack? That's a bit extreme, don't you think?" Her tone never wavered, stayed pleasant and sounded teasing; they looked ashamed of themselves.

Behind the counter, Ruby observed Mary Margaret Blanchard with growing interest. Due to her slightly rebelliousness nature and the provocative way she dressed, no one gave Ruby the credit she really deserved as someone who _knew_ people. This morning, when Mary Margaret had strolled in at 6:47 asking for a cup of coffee to go, no one but Ruby had noticed the change in her. Of course, if you weren't looking for it, the chances of you actually _seeing_ it were slim – but Ruby _was_ looking for it. She was always looking for it. Today, she saw it – a change. Mary Margaret came in with a new aura blanketing her, a new attitude that Ruby could only help but admire.

Ruby would never have had the audacity to _ever_ call Mary Margaret weak or anything like that, but she had been like everyone else – stuck, the same never-changing person under the thumb of Mr. Gold and the Mayor, like everyone else. Today she wasn't. Today, Ruby saw something in Mary Margaret that she had not seen before: conviction. While she had always be strong in very quiet kind of way, Mary Margaret had never shown that strength in public before, had never argued or disagreed or shown dissent – until today. In all truth, Ruby found it rather inspiring; Mary Margaret was really rather majestic, when you bothered to give her a second glance. And though Ruby could not yet find the courage in herself to openly change or acknowledge change, she could, perhaps, show her support in her own insignificant way, so she did.

Mary Margaret left the diner feeling, in a word, invigorated. _Is this what being free feels like? Is this what it means to be myself?_ She never even noticed that Ruby had failed to charge her for her coffee.

**-onceuponatime-**

Emma, to her great regret, woke up at seven in the morning – the time she would _normally_ be getting up at, on days when she didn't spend half the night in the hospital – and could not go back to sleep. Of course, she needed to pick Henry up and walk him to the bus stop by twenty after eight, but Henry always met her outside Granny's, and the bus stop was a five minute walk. So, she had an hour to kill. She could have taken a shower, drank two cups of coffee, and done a full yoga routine, like she did every morning, and still had time to spare. She probably would have felt better, felt comforted, by the familiarity of the routine. But she didn't, because, ultimately, she decided her time could be better spent visiting Graham in the hospital.

Despite what Mary Margaret had said, she still felt a little guilty. While visiting Graham would likely do nothing to relieve that guilt, it might make her feel better, if only for a few minutes. So, Emma dressed hurriedly, tossed her hair up into a ponytail, and was out the door in five minutes. She half walked, half jogged to the hospital and arrived in fifteen minutes, passing the night receptionist leaving on her way out. The old lady winked at her and chuckled to herself before waddling away, not seeming to mind the fact that it was about to pour down rain. Emma let it go and shook herself of the morning chill, making her way to the front desk. The young woman who had replaced the elderly lady looked as though she was about to fall asleep.

"Name?" She asked, not looking up from what must have been a _very_ interesting sheet of paper.

"Emma Swan. I'm here to see Graham." The girl's head snapped up immediately, her cheeks coloring. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she looked around the corner, clearly looking for someone to come and save her.

"Is there a problem?" Emma asked, an edge in her tone.

The girl looked, for a moment, very sad and apologetic. "I'm _so_ sorry, Miss Swan, but you aren't allowed to see Sheriff Graham at this time."

"I'm not?" Emma asked, feigning surprise.

"No, he's not allowed to have visitors at this time." The girl fidgeted slightly in her seat, put a strand of hair behind her ear; Emma knew, as she always did, that the girl was lying.

"Which is it then, Miss…" Emma trailed off, searching for the girl's name tag. "Beaumont? Am _I_ not allowed to see him, or is he not allowed to have _visitors_? Regrettably, in this town, those two things don't necessarily mean the same thing."

Once again, the girl seemed to shrink before Emma's eyes. She rolled her chair back and looked down the long hallway, towards the break room where laughter could be heard; she was still hoping someone was going to rescue her. Eventually the girl gave up and sighed, looking up at Emma with regret in her green eyes. "Sheriff Graham's emergency contact has forbidden others to enter his room in the event that they disturb him and cause further damage."

And by 'others', she meant Emma. "And, who would his emergency contact be?" Emma didn't really need an answer, but the girl's refusal to say anything and her ashamed refusal to meet Emma's eyes confirmed it. In hindsight, it made perfect sense – they had been sleeping together, of course she was his emergency contact.

"Well, I know you said I couldn't go in the room, but would it be alright if I looked in through the window? I was the one who brought him in last night and I just want to see if he looks any better." Emma asked, letting a little bit of pleading creep into her tone.

The girl seemed to perk up and brighten before Emma's eyes, clearly relieved that Emma hadn't caused a fuss, and perhaps even a little triumphant at the discovered loophole. She nodded enthusiastically and reminded Emma that she wasn't allowed in the room, but if anyone gave her trouble, to send them up and she would deal with them. Emma thanked the girl and made her way to Graham's room. He did not look any worse for the wear, if a little more pale, or as though he should be on death's doorstep – which he should. Rather, he simply looked as though he was very, very deeply asleep. She had been right all along; her morning routine might have been comforting, but seeing him was what she needed.

She left without speaking to Dr. Whale or Regina, whom she suspected to be lurking around somewhere in the hospital, and went to pick up Henry and take him to the bus stop. There was work to be done.

**-onceuponatime—**

Mary Margaret stood behind her desk in silence, glaring at the workbooks in front of her. It was, truly, very odd. Had it always been this way, and she simply never noticed? Every month she and the class went through a workbook together which always had a mix of the essential studies for their age group, but the problem Mary Margaret had was that _they were all the same_. The new workbooks they were supposed to transfer to every month were supposed to be one level higher than the previous month, but these were all the same level. Looking back on workbooks from last year, she could see that the level had stayed the same. How had it gone on this long without anyone noticing?

Of course, it had always seemed like she'd had the same children in her class for a long time, but that was simply part of the job, right? Clucking her tongue, she scolded herself for her negligence and resolved to check the store room. After taking a few minutes to reorganize her desk, which she had turned into a war zone while searching for the appropriate workbooks, she left her classroom just after 7:30 to seek out the workbooks she needed. After almost ten minutes of fruitless wandering, she was beginning to get frustrated. She could have _sworn_ that the closet the workbooks were stored in was down the hall and to the left, but all that resided in there were cleaning supplies. It wasn't until she had checked both closets in the east wing of the school that she could no longer contain her irritation and, completely and utterly subconsciously, stamped her foot – which caused the very short heel of her shoe to snap off, much to the amusement of a watchful bystander.

Mary Margaret froze for an instant, in the process of bending down to take her shoe off, when she recognized the voice in the chuckle. She resisted the urge to cringe and flee as she might have only a few days ago, and reminded herself of how she had felt only this morning when she had been as bold on the outside as she had always been on the inside.

"Something funny?" She asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in her tone, as she turned around to look David Nolan in the eye.

"Did you really just stamp your foot?" He asked, his tone teasing and triumphant – like seeing her in such a position made him the winner of some epic contest or battle of wits.

"I've had a long morning, and now it's just gotten better," She said, gesturing to her shoe.

"I see, and you felt the need to take it out on the floor because…?"

She knew he was joking, but Mary Margaret did not like being laughed at – hated it, in fact – and could not help replying in kind as she marched – limped – past him. "You weren't here," And whacked him gently upside the head as she made her way back to her room.

Chuckling, he jogged after her and, oblivious to her dismay, continued talking to her. "So, what was it exactly that got you in such a mood?"

Though uncomfortable with the situation, Mary Margaret knew it would be rude not to respond, and so chose to ignore the elephant in the room and press forward with quiet dignity. "My new, more advanced workbooks for my class have gone missing. They were supposed to be in the closet down the hall, but I didn't find anything but random sports equipment – and, when I checked the other closet in the east wing, everything was out of place." They had arrived at her classroom, and Mary Margaret shrugged her shoulders helplessly and gestured to the old workbooks. "I guess we'll just have to use these for now and get to the more advanced ones next week."

David coughed, and the tips of his ears turned an alarming shade of red. "That might actually, possibly, be my fault." He bit his lip and shifted his gaze around the room.

"How?" Mary Margaret's eyes narrowed, glancing at the clock – she had twenty minutes until class time.

"Well, you might be wondering why I'm here since I don't actually have any children," His hands fiddled with the belt loops on his jeans, a nervous habit Mary Margaret, regrettably, found very attractive. "I got a job here, as a Gym teacher and a part-time janitor – and, my predecessor," He laughed nervously as Mary Margaret glared at him from behind her desk, her hands on her hips; he thought she looked rather striking, as well as imposing. "Well, he didn't really _explain_ things to me, or tell me where to put things. I was in such a rush this morning because there was nothing planned for today's gym class, that I kind of just…shoved all the sports equipment I didn't need into the first closet I saw. And as the janitor, I know that I'm required to actually do some cleaning before school begins in order to earn that _fantastic_ minimum wage paycheck, and it took me forever to find all the supplies and then I was hurrying to put them back before the kids got here…" He trailed off, looking very sheepish.

Had it been anyone else, Mary Margaret probably would have waved it off and let it go, but David Nolan was not 'anyone else', so that particular inclination was not felt. Rather, she found herself thoroughly annoyed by him and almost wanted to scream obscenities at him. She didn't, of course, and knew that the desire to scream obscenities likely came from the fact that he had led her on only to go back to his wife, but she still wanted to.

"Well, where _are_ my workbooks then?"

"I think I put them in the closet in the west wing," There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice; she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Glancing up one more time at the clock, Mary Margaret left her classroom at a clipped pace, ignoring David altogether, and went in search of her workbooks.

Having half of her heel snap off made her attempt to storm off a little comical, in David's opinion, but he knew better than to comment on it. Instead, he followed and kept his amusement in check, and reveled in this person who had such a spark. Regrettably, the only time Kathryn ever had a spark was right before they were about to fight; David cringed. _I suppose that's not really fair though, is it? We've been through so much…it's understandable that there's some tension. I love my wife and value my marriage; this will work. _The words sounded rehearsed, even when thought. Still, the one thing David _was_ looking forward to was his burgeoning friendship with Mary Margaret – surely his wife wouldn't object to befriending a coworker, would she?

**-onceuponatime-**

Emma and Henry walked hand in hand down the street. Henry had been animatedly chattering on about…something for the better part of ten minutes; Emma felt bad, but was still distracted.

"Something wrong Emma?" Henry asked, not upset in the least that she hadn't been listening.

"Yeah…um, Sheriff Graham had a heart attack last night," Emma told him, not wanting to lie to him or withhold something he was probably going to find out on the school bus anyway.

"No he didn't," Henry said matter-of-factly, scowling. "The Evil Queen probably crushed his heart."

"Crushed his heart…Henry, what are you talking about?" Emma didn't know much about fairytales, but she was pretty sure she would have remembered that detail in the story of Snow White.

"When the Huntsman disobeyed the Queen and refused to kill Snow White, she took his heart," He said, in that slow kind of tone used when someone is missing something incredibly obvious.

"And?" Emma asked, not seeing the correlation.

"Well what'd you think she did with the hearts she took? By taking a person's heart she can dangle a piano over their head and get them to do what she wants. When they disobey, she kills them,"

Emma cringed at his terminology and sighed, choosing her words very carefully. "I'm still not quite sure that's what happened, Henry, but it's definitely something I'll look into. In the meantime…" She swallowed – she'd never been very good at beating around the bush or saying things with subtly. "Henry, how would you feel if I petitioned the courts for custody?"

"You mean…I would live with you?" Henry asked very quietly.

"Yeah, if you wanted – if you would prefer to stay with the Mayor, I won't do it. I don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do, okay Henry?" Emma said hurriedly, her own insecurities making her nervous and second guess what she was about to do.

She needn't have worried; with a joyful laugh, Henry flew into her arms and nearly knocked her over into the street. "Do you really mean it?" Henry asked again, his face beaming with happiness.

"I do, but we have to keep this quiet, ok Henry? Element of surprise, right?" Emma said, appealing to his fairytale logic.

"Right…Hey, does that mean I can call you Mom?" Henry all but begged.

"Why don't we stick with Emma for right now, just until we're ready to make our move. We don't want to tip our hand, right?" Emma replied in a stage whisper; she was beginning to understand her son well enough to know how to handle him. She doubted he had ever been this obedient for Regina; the thought made her smile.

"Ok, how about a compromise? Can I call you Memma?"

"Memma?" Emma asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, like Mom/Emma." Henry said in that bright, unyielding tone of his.

Emma knew he wasn't going to let it go, despite the fact that she thought it a bit too close to Momma to go unnoticed. "If you want," She said, picking her battles.

The school bus pulled up at that moment, forcing Henry and Emma to part ways.

"I'll be here to pick you up and take you to Archie's right after school, okay?"

"Okay!" Henry hugged her and whispered in here ear _"Bye, Memma,"_ before kissing her cheek and boarding the school bus.

Emma felt her heart grow warm as she watched Henry settle into his seat on the school bus, and watched the school bus drive away. She would never, in her entire life, ever have considered herself to be maternal or a motherly-candidate in any kind of way. Now, she wasn't so sure. The little time she had spent with Henry made her rethink her entire being – _who was she, really?_ Was everything that she had become, for better or for worse, due to the limitations and expectations everyone else had placed on her? The sensations, the emotions, she was experiencing now that she had met Henry and had a relationship with him…was this who she was? Had she secretly been born to be a mother, and simply never knew it?

_Is this what it feels like to be free? Is this what it means to be myself?_

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><p><strong>An – Whew! I had a little trouble organizing this chapter the way I wanted it due to all the exciting scenes coming up and the order of events. I seem to be caught in a bit of trouble – the story would flow better if I have the next three or four scenes in one chapter, but the following chapter might seem incredibly short as a result. I suppose I'll just have to wait and see how the writing turns out – hopefully the issue will resolve itself.**

**The chapter title comes from Michelle Branch's song "Breathe" Which I used to help set the tone for the chapter!**

**I would like to say (in the event you didn't read the first author's note) that I now have an official twitter page where I post regular updates, quotes, spoilers, and answers to questions I receive in reviews. If any of you have any requests to make, like a one-shot or scene you might like to see in the story, Twitter will probably the best way to get ahold of me. I really hope some of you will follow – to those of you that do, I look forward to seeing you there! Search & Add me: to_be_worthy**


	4. Chapter, the Fourth

**A/n: Ouch; major drop in reviews. All the same, the number of people who have added this to their alert list has risen significantly – knowing people are reading makes me happy, too. The pace picks up a bit here as we _finally_ get to see a little more tension – with Graham and Emma, and Emma and Regina.**

**Thanks to my reviewers: AlexaAres, Arocksprpl2, Malty, Vapor2008, red lighting, Cora Knight, and Lady Elena Bella Petrova.**

**First fairytale flashback too!**

**Note: This chapter is unedited apart from a quick read through; it's late. I'll fix the mistakes tomorrow.**

**Follow me on twitter for regular updates, spoilers, and snippets; to_be_worthy**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.<strong>

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><p>Chapter, the Fourth: Not What I Planned<p>

_It was a beautiful sunny, summer day in the forest Gamreh. The leaf littered forest floor was finally firm again, after having been reduced to a swamp-like mush during the spring rain season. Had there been any humans occupying the forest, they would have immediately recognized a child's laughter in the empty echo of the area, but there were not. All humans were too terrified to enter the forest in fear of what lurked in the shadows and thus considered the place to be uninhabitable – save one. _

_One human among the hundreds of thousands of peoples – human, witch, troll, etc,. – considered the forest to be home, and quite safe. His name was Graham, and by the time he was six years old, he had done what no other person had ever dared to do before in the forest of Gamreh: he lived._

_The leaves crunched and crackled under the child's bare feet as he ran. There was no path to follow, no signs or markings telling him which way to run, but he didn't need them. Graham knew this forest as well as the animals that inhabited them, for this was his home. It was his mother who chased him now, as all mothers are prone to do when their child runs, and made him laugh. _

_He could see the field up ahead, could see where the forest met the sunlight, and that his mother was right behind him. He ran faster, determined to get where he was going and ignored his mother's alarmed barks and whimpers. He didn't understand why she was so concerned – he had gone into the village several times before without issue._

_The she wolf had all but caught up as she had four legs and he had but two – but he also had a head start. It was by pure chance that the boy tripped and tumbled, head over heels, into the sunlight ridden wheat field. His mother did not follow but whimpered from the shadows of the forest, begging him to come back where it was safe. _

_He made the sound for food and continued walking towards the village of Clover, dismissing his mother's pleading whines. Graham loved coming into the village, loved seeing people who looked like him and walked like him. The scents and sounds of the human village enchanted him in ways that he couldn't describe to his family, ways they didn't understand._

_The village was bustling and teeming with life; it was Market Day. People from the five closest villages traveled to the various towns to see who had the best deals on meat and vegetables, and if those merchants would accept their own wares in trade. Of course, Graham didn't care about any of that – he had no wares to barter, no money with which to buy bobbles, but he didn't need to. _

_Half the villagers found themselves wary and nervous of this boy, though he was only six years old, but the other half was as warm and welcoming as humans could be. The clothes on his back, the moccasins on his feet, and, sometimes, the food in his belly came from the generosity of the people of this village._

_He was taken in every winter by an elderly, kind couple who lived on the edge of the village. The woman's own children had long since grown and left, and her husband was more than happy to have a little tyke running about the house again. They had long since come to accept that Graham would never accept them as his parents – that honor was bestowed on the white and silver she-wolf that could sometimes be seen on the edge of the forest, and her mate – but they treated him like their son none-the-less. They taught him to speak, to read and write, and they gave him his human name._

_Graham could not really recall his mother sneaking into the village and leaving him on Jenna Brown's doorstep when he was two years old, but Jenna told the story often enough that he could remember it a little. Jenna always said that his mother was a smart lass who knew what was best for him – which, to Graham's horror, included baths – and had brought him to her because his mother knew she could not care for him so young. Of course, Graham did not know the wolf word for bath, so he couldn't ask her, but he trusted Jenna's judgment in such things – she was a mother herself, after all. _

_Though Graham was loathe to leave his mother's side, especially since in a few sunsets fall, and then winter, would be upon the land and he would be confined to Jenna's home, he needed to see Jenna. His family was rather unaccustomed to having Graham with them so late in the season, and so had no idea what to do when all the berries had fallen from the bush; he had nothing to eat. He had, of course, tried to eat as his mother did, but he had gotten very sick from it and could not risk it again. _

_This summer had lasted longer than anticipated, as it was usually the shortest of all the seasons experienced in the kingdom, and the villagers were making the most of it. Graham knocked on the door and waited for Jenna to open the door; he could hear Alexander, Jenna's husband, working 'round the back. Jenna opened the door and greeted him with a warm smile._

"_Hello, Graham, a bit hungry are we?"_

_Graham nodded and shuffled his feet, looking down at the ground. "Yes, Jenna,"_

"_Oh, don't feel bad lad. There's no shame in needing to eat," She put a comforting arm around his shoulders and pulled him inside._

"_But I have nothing to trade!"_

"_To trade?" Jenna asked as she poured him a bowl of stew. "What does that have to do with anything?"_

"_That's how things work, isn't it? You trade one good for another, right?"_

"_Oh, but sweetheart, you're a child! You needn't worry about such things," Jenna chuckled and set the bowl in front of him, kissing his head._

"_But I want to help! Is there anything I can do to help Alexander?" Graham was determined to pay his due, determined to do something nice for the couple who had done so much for him._

_Jenna, seeing that Graham could not be swayed, paused and looked thoughtful. "Well, eat your stew and I'll go have a chat with Alexander," She said, ruffling his hair. "Mayhap we can find you something to do, little man."_

_Graham nodded vigorously and began to eat, pleased with the prospect of work. Jenna smiled and exited through the kitchen door; Graham could hear the laughter in her voice as she spoke to Alexander. His hunger was so great, that he all but inhaled the wonderful stew. _

_Jenna reentered the cottage a moment later with Alexander close behind. She roared when she saw him, and grabbed a cloth from the stove top and wipe his face furiously. He struggled only a little – what __**was**__it with humans and their obsession to be clean?_

"_Well, boy, Jenna tells me you want to earn your keep,"_

_Graham stood immediately, his back pin-straight as he stood at attention, his attention held in earnest. "Yes sir!"_

"_Well, good, then this day will have a happy ending for both of us," Alexander's moustache twitched, fighting a smile at Graham's earnest behavior. "Tonight we will eat well because today, today I am going to teach you how to hunt,"_

**-onceuponatime-**

"…And then Mary said I couldn't do it, but then I did!" Henry finished triumphantly, grinning madly.

"Got a bit of a competitive streak, do you?" Emma asked, amused; she had one too.

"No," Henry said, pausing to think. "It's not that. I just don't like being told I can't do something that someone else can."

Emma resisted the urge to point out that it was more or less the same thing. "I see. So, what else did you do today?"

"Oh, we have a gym class now! I mean, we had one before, but it was basically just teacher supervised recess," He muttered, sounding disgruntled.

"Yeah? What did you do – play basketball or baseball or something?"

"Well, today we played basketball, but Mr. Nolan said he had something special planned for next week," Henry grinned, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Nolan?" Emma stopped walking. "As in, David Nolan?"

"Yup!" Henry chirped, pleased as punch. "The curse is starting to break! Prince Charming and Snow White will be together again in no time,"

Emma jogged to catch up with Henry, who had kept walking. "Did you see them talking or something…?"

"Well, no, but it's only a matter of time, right? The Evil Queen is starting to lose control over her magic – bunches of curses are being broken."

"I thought there was only one curse," Emma said, raising an eyebrow; was he fabricating another curse to keep the story going?

"Well, there's the only one _major_ curse – the one she placed on the kingdom so no happy endings were guaranteed – but she did a bunch of other spells before that. Like the one she put on the Huntsman, when she took his heart,"

"Wait, what?" Emma had heard those words uttered by Graham the night of his…accident.

"Well, yeah. He disobeyed her but, instead of killing him, she chose to punish him in the worst way she could – by taking away his freedom and forcing him to live under her thumb, as a human."

"What do you mean 'as a human'?" Emma asked, curious at how far Henry was going to take this.

"The Huntsman was always said to have been raised by wolves because he hated dealing with humans because they had no respect for animals, and was often accompanied by a wolf whenever he was seen to be hunting. He _hated_ having to do deal with humans. The Evil Queen forced him to be a part of her court, and deal with them on a daily basis."

Emma could understand that, in a way. People were stupid and often fickle – at least animals were reliable and dependable. "So what did you mean about Sheriff Graham?"

"He must have done something she didn't like, disobeyed her. She crushed his heart but he survived – the curse must have been weakened somehow." He shrugged, looking puzzled.

"A curse like that can be weakened?" Emma asked, going with the flow like Archie had suggested. "I mean, actually taking someone's heart seems like a pretty finite way of cursing someone."

"All curses can be broken – either by the way to break the curse, or a loophole."

"Isn't the loophole _the_ way to break the curse?"

"Not exactly. Like, take the Huntsman's curse for example. He could break the curse by taking his heart back, or by relying on the soulmate loophole."

"Soulmate loophole?" Emma asked, a little incredulous. Her ten year old son believed in soulmates?

"It's kind of like the true love's kiss curse breaker. The heart the Evil Queen took from Graham wasn't his real, physical heart – it was just a physical mani-mani-manifestation," Henry struggled with the word before spitting it out, an irritated, slightly embarrassed look coming onto his face. "A physical manifestation of his soul. Every person in the world has a partner who has the other half of their soul. When the twin souls meet, their souls begin the merging process to become one."

"So you think Graham found his soulmate, and that's why he survived the heart attack?"

Henry nodded. "It has to be! He obviously didn't get his heart back, since the Queen crushed it, so he must have met his true love."

Emma couldn't help it; her arms slid around Henry in a huge hug. "Where do you _get_ this stuff?" She asked, laughing as he squirmed in her embrace.

He managed to free himself and smooth down his hair, which stuck out in all directions during the slightly uncharacteristic display of affection from Emma. He gave her a small glare as he straightened his clothes, and sniffed in what Emma was sure he thought to be a very dignified way. "I read," He informed her, continuing the short walk to Archie's.

They stopped outside Archie's office, a little early.

"What's on your mind, kid?" Emma asked Henry, seeing him look her in a thoughtful sort of way.

"You and Sheriff Graham kissed?" He wrinkled his nose slightly.

Emma felt her face go crimson. "Where did you hear that?" This was _not _something she wanted to discuss with her ten year old son.

"Graham told me. Well, he didn't mean to, but we were talking about the Huntsman and I asked him what happened when all the memories came back."

"Ah," Emma said, very uncomfortable. "Henry, I don't want you thinking about this too much, okay?" _For god's sake, please drop it – for both our sakes._ "You are the most important thing in my life, and nothing is going to distract me from making sure that I get you back."

"I'm not worried Memma," Henry said, hugging her – it was obvious to him that she was the insecure one. "And for the record, I like him." Henry grinned and walked inside.

So, for an hour at least, Emma had nothing to do. She contemplated going to Granny's for a drink, going home for a nap, and even going to the park just to kill time. What she did wind up doing, was not something she contemplated.

"Ah, Ms. Swan," Mr. Gold approached her, startling her out of her reverie; she hadn't even realized she'd already walked to Granny's.

"Mr. Gold," Emma replied, feeling uneasy; the man set her teeth on edge.

"I'm surprised to see you here. I would have thought that you would have gone to see the Sheriff off."

"What are you talking about?"

"Madame Mayor has made the decision to put Sheriff Graham's suffering to an end. She called everyone so people could have a chance to say goodbye. Have you not heard?"

He knew damn well that no one had called her. "I visited him this morning and he was fine! The charts said he was just heavily medicated."

"According to Dr. Whale, he slipped into a coma when they tried to awaken him after decreased amounts of the dosage over the course of the day. They say he may never wake up. Madame Mayor decided that it would be better if we let him go now, than suffer through, potentially, years of waiting and never knowing."

"When?" Emma asked, urgently. "When is this supposed to happen?"

Mr. Gold looked at his wristwatch. "Twenty minutes, I believe…"

"Excuse me," Emma said, as she began to run. She had to stop this. Regina had taken Graham's rejection too far. Emma had been hurt by a man before, sure, but never badly enough that she would pull the plug if they were in some kind of accident directly after. Emma was out of breath not three blocks into running, and it wasn't because of the exercise. Merely thinking that he was dead took her breath away.

Long after Emma had taken off, Mr. Gold was still standing in front of the restaurant by day, bar by night, watching after her. "Good luck, your highness," He smiled. Everything was going exactly as he planned.

**A/n: So, that's it. I do have more written – two more scenes – that were originally going to go in this chapter but I decided that this was a good enough place to end it. Coming up next chapter: Graham's childhood memory (part II), Emma & Regina at the hospital, and Regina and Mary Margaret go head to head.**

**Add me on twitter! To_be_worthy**


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